


Fireside Thoughts

by wondybread



Category: Booksmart (2019)
Genre: F/F, cuddling and shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:01:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21613489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wondybread/pseuds/wondybread
Summary: Amy apologizes to Hope, who can only helplessly adore her in return.(I definitely was a little obsessed with the Amy who refuses to call Annabelle anything other than her name and the same Amy who slaps her best friend for talking shit about herself.)
Relationships: Amy/Hope (Booksmart)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 263





	Fireside Thoughts

Hope always has to find the right word. She suspects it's one of the reasons why she reads so much, so that she may have that much more at her disposal. _It's comforting_ , Hope thinks as she turns a page in her book. She knows it's late but she has all this energy roiling within her. She's not quite sure where to put it all. She leaves for her trip in a few weeks or so and she attributes this energy to the giddiness of that, of traveling, of adventure, of Amy, of —  
  
Hope frowns. The giddiness of Amy? Not necessarily associated with her trip but sure, she feels giddy when she sees Amy. But it's an effect of something else. Hope ponders this and tries to ignore the associated swelling of her heart as she thinks of Amy's smile, of Amy's kindness, of Amy's —  
  
Hope's attention snaps to her window when she hears a soft _tap tap_.  
  
_Amy_.  
  
Hope breaks out into a wide grin as she clambers out of bed and over to her window. Amy waves weakly back, and Hope can't get the window open fast enough.  
  
"Amy? What are you doing here?" Hope asks, leaning her hands on the windowsill. It comes out a little breathlessly because it's _magical_. And Hope's heart is swelling again, ten — no, a hundred times more rapidly seeing Amy in the flesh, as if the sky had opened up and plopped her onto the tree branch just because Hope had wished it. She watches Amy take a steadying breath and resists the urge to touch her.  
  
"I just wanted to say sorry for Nick's party — " Amy starts, rubbing the back of her neck.  
  
"Amy, it's ok. We're good, you don't need to apologize," Hope interrupts gently, frowning curiously.   
  
"No, no. Not for that. Although, I am sorry for that entire experience, because that was a fucking ordeal," Amy says quickly with a grimace. "But I'm really sorry for calling you a basic hot girl who's gonna peak in high school." Hope blinks at her, stunned, but otherwise doesn't reply so Amy continues. "It was an unkind and untrue thing to say to you. Even though I was drunk and emotionally compromised, those are not excuses to say unkind and untrue things. And not that it matters, but that is not at all what I think of you and I would never for a second want you to think that I would ever reduce you to anything less than what you are. So, I'm sorry."  
  
Hope can't help it: she stares. Because there's something in Amy's eyes that she just flat out adores. Sifting past the nervousness, Hope sees a fire, similar to the fire she had seen that fateful night at Nick's party. Hope has seen pockets of this fire many times growing up with Amy: when she was gearing up for a protest or when someone was being picked on at school. It's a warning sign that she's digging her heels in and preparing for a fight. _Herculean_ , Hope thinks wildly.  
  
Hope used to think of love as a snapping of sorts, of tensions breaking. Much like a dam bursting. Now, especially now, she thinks of it as something clicking into place, of giving in. Of a door unlocking. Hope has loved Amy since the beginning of time, as the books say. And she knows it by the ever-present sigh of relief she feels during the clicking-into-place-moments like this one.  
  
"Amy..." Hope breathes finally. But then Amy shivers and this snaps Hope out of her reverie. "Shit, come in, I keep forgetting how cold it is at night."   
  
Hope stretches out a hand to Amy. When Amy places her hand in hers, it sends a shock through Hope's system. Not because Amy's hands are cold (but they are cold), but because it feels familiar. Like they've done this before, reaching for each other's hands as they run down a street. It makes Hope believe in past lives. But the moment passes quickly when Amy's left foot catches on her windowsill, which sends her careening into Hope's arms. The wind is knocked out of Hope's lungs but she recovers swiftly.  
  
"Amy, are you ok?" Hope says anxiously, attempting to step away and assess the damage. But Amy's head is practically glued to Hope's chest, her arms wrapped around Hope's back.  
  
"Hope, you're so fucking warm," Amy replies, her voice muffled. Hope chuckles, relishing the way Amy says her name.  
  
"Come on, let's get to bed. You're making me cold. Can you move at all?" Hope says, poking Amy's side teasingly. She feels Amy squeeze her tighter.  
  
"I don't think I can, that was quite a spill I took. I think you'll have to bridal carry me," Amy says, nuzzling Hope's chest. Hope laughs as reaches over Amy easily to let the window fall shut.  
  
"I swear to fucking God, Amy, I'm not carrying you," Hope says, grinning. She waddles them both over to the edge of her bed before they fall into a heap, giggling uncontrollably. Hope is effectively on top of Amy. So, when she looks down and sees Amy's hair splayed across her comforter, green eyes gleaming with mirth and something _else_ , Hope's mouth runs dry as she scrambles off her.  
  
"So," Hope says, clearing her throat. "You climbed a tree to apologize for calling me a nobody without a future?"  
  
Amy flinches. "Not in so many words but yes."  
  
Hope nods as if considering this. "You know, you could have just texted me but I appreciate the chivalry," she teases. She notes with amusement how the tips of Amy's ears redden.  
  
"I genuinely hadn't considered that," Amy says almost as if to herself. They settle in under Hope's covers. Despite this, Hope can still feel that the air around Amy is still quite cold. Amy shivers again as if on cue.  
  
"Come here. Best way to get you warmed up," Hope says, opening her arms to Amy. _Not the best way_ , her mind supplies. Hope tries very hard not to remember a half-naked Amy hovering over her languidly...  
  
"I'm good right here," Amy squeaks out and Hope can't help but roll her eyes.  
  
"Amy, it's cool. I'm a little toasty anyway." Hope gestures with her arms again.  
  
Amy slides over to her tentatively at first. But when she's close enough, she practically sighs into Hope. It's almost magnetic the way Amy's head fits the curve of Hope's chest and the way Hope wraps her arms securely around Amy's waist.  
  
"Fuck, you feel good," Amy says contentedly. "Wait, no — "  
  
"I know what you meant," Hope says with a laugh. She pauses. "I accept your apology. But why did you come all the way here to apologize? Why does it matter?" Because it doesn't matter to Hope. She understands that that moment in the bathroom was strange, a liminal space in which they were simultaneously maintaining their distance and inevitably coming together. She can't blame Amy for erupting, not even a little bit.  
  
Hope glances down at Amy, can practically see the gears turning. She tries to focus even as the scent of Amy promises to overwhelm her.  
  
"Because it does matter," Amy says finally. Hope can feel Amy's breath on her neck, feels her own pulse quicken in response. Mercifully, Amy props herself up on her elbow to look at Hope fully. And there it is again, that fire in Amy's eyes that leaves Hope breathless.  
  
"I know you probably weren't affected by what I said but I won't stand for that kind of injustice. I won't stand for being unkind, or for lessening someone's complexity and humanity. Even if it came from me in a moment of anger. You're extraordinary, Hope. And it would be such a disservice to let you or me think otherwise," Amy says somewhat fiercely, eyes bright.  
  
Hope hasn't been on the receiving end of Amy's fire, not really. Now, all she can think about is being consumed by Amy. Hope craves to be her own unheeding Icarus in which all her senses are engulfed by everything that Amy is.  
  
"Amy..." Hope manages to say before placing a gentle hand at Amy's jaw, tilting her head down to Hope's as Hope leans up to kiss her. It feels like that night at Nick's party, the surrounding air heady and prophetic. It feels like the universe spins for the necessity of their meeting, kissing, touching. Hope is deepening the kiss, aching for more, and Amy is responding in kind. When Amy slides her tongue against hers, Hope's breath hitches. And suddenly Amy is pulling away with rosy cheeks and slightly bruised lips.  
  
"Sorry," she mutters, putting an annoying amount of distance between them. "Got a little carried away."  
  
"I initiated, Amy," Hope replies with a smirk. She sees Amy's gaze drift to her lips and then to the clock on her nightstand. "I hope you don't plan on going because I'd like us to continue. I want you to stay."  
  
Amy gives her a smile, both radiant and relieved as she lowers herself onto Hope, placing a soft, persistent kiss against Hope's lips.  
  
"You know, I think I might have plans," Amy tells her, grinning impishly.  
  
"Uh-huh, plans at two in the morning," Hope replies, nodding along. Amy kisses her quickly on her cheek, along her jaw, at the corner of Hope's lips. Hope can't help but think of the myth of Tantalus, of how well Amy fits against her and how tempting is. When Amy glides her fingertips against Hope's exposed hip bone, Hope inhales sharply then bites her lip hard. _Tempting, tempting_.  
  
"Amy," Hope says in both warning and wanting.  
  
"Yes?" Amy smiles again, wide and simpering. Hope closes her eyes briefly, trying not to be swayed. "I suppose I can make some time for you."  
  
"How can I ever thank you?" Hope murmurs sarcastically, distractedly watching Amy's lips.  
  
"You're still a hot girl. I'm sure you'll think of something." And it's almost matter-of-fact the way Amy replies. But Hope can hear the desire in the back of Amy's throat, like a flint threatening to set Hope alight.  
  
"Fucking tease," Hope huffs before giving in and kissing Amy with an intensity that surprises even Hope. Maybe not the best words to use. But when Hope feels Amy smile against her, Hope thinks that they will suffice.

**Author's Note:**

> If you've reached the end, thank you for taking the time to read this!


End file.
